Fall
by Tsarina Torment
Summary: He's not there, until he is. Episode tag for 3.25 "The Long Reach (Part 1)"


**Disclaimer: I don't own _Thunderbirds_.**

_Episode Tag to 3.25 "The Long Reach (Part 1)"_

_He isn't here_. The realisation drills into his mind unpleasantly, like a Mole pod through particularly stubborn earth, and Scott's knees want to give out. He wants to scream at the unfairness of it all – they made it here, through _everything_ life threw at them, the _Hood_ and his blasted Chaos Crew threw at them – but their Dad just _isn't here_.

If it wasn't for Alan, and his three other younger brothers linked up to his communication channel eagerly awaiting news on the wrecked ship they all knew was the Zero-X as soon as Gordon caught sight of it, he probably would have done both of those things. As it is, he has four brothers to stay strong for even though the shaking of the unstable planetoid surrounding them is starting to feel like his entire world crumbling away, and he takes another step forward. And another.

Alan's in front of him, desperately searching for any sign, and that should be Scott but he's barely holding himself together right now as he sees the crudely made up bed, the _washing machine_ their father seems to have somehow rigged up, and most cruelly of all the carbon lines streaking together on a panel into the unmistakable shape of _home_. It's not even a case of mistaken identity, another lost traveller – those _aliens_ Alan and Gordon like to joke about even as John pulls disapproving faces and snarks about no evidence – because that's _their home_ and there's only one person out in the Oort Cloud that could possibly draw that (two, now Virgil's here, but Scott squashes that thought firmly. They'll get home just fine).

Maybe it's cruel to think it, but Scott's secretly _glad_ when Alan breaks, his baby brother so brave, so _amazing_ to get them all the way here, but still a child and in need of big brother's reassurance. He makes things up on the spot, something about Dad knowing the planetoid is on the verge of collapse and migrated to safer ground even though he knows everything there is to know about the Zero-X, knows there was only one escape capsule and nothing else that could travel from one planetoid to another. Knows Dad would have taken at least some of this stuff, valuable, _important_ survival gear with him if he had even half the chance.

Knows that the lights being on means nothing, that Dad could be long dead by now, his body anywhere in the incomprehensible vastness of space.

He can't say any of that to Alan, not even when baby blues light up in fresh determination and an oath to not leave until they _find him_. The Zero-XL has overrides in place, overrides he worked with Brains and EOS and even the _Mechanic_ to install to force them back home just in case of… well, just in case of _this_, where a rescue mission turns into a recovery mission but there's nothing left to recover.

It's Scott's worst nightmare – failing Dad, failing his brothers, failing _Grandma _for all her reassurances that she'd be proud no matter what happened – and suddenly he can't leave. Not now, not like this. The planetoid is breaking apart and he sends Alan on ahead because no matter what he won't let his brothers lose their lives over this, but he hangs back.

He has to make one final search, has to get closure even if it's a skeleton in a blue flight suit and charcoal baldric, before he can leave. He can't give up without a fight, not after everything.

"Scott."

John knows. John _always_ knows, even when Scott tries his hardest to keep him in the dark. It's just his name, but it's filled with so much more. The planetoid is collapsing. Dad is gone.

He gives up.

Takes one step. Another.

He falls.

Scott is no stranger to falling. He jumps out of Thunderbirds all the time, loses his balance when whatever it is he's standing on lurches too violently, loses his grip on his line or loses the line completely.

It's simple, routine. Grapple gun, point, shoot. Jetpack, ignite. He has both of these things with him, vital parts of his gear he tries to be never without.

He uses neither, years of honed instincts and training vanishing from him as he reaches out desperately for the planetoid that's falling with him, the world he's on falling apart just like the one inside his head. Panicked scrabbling doesn't help, never helps – _a rescue scout is calm_ – but Scott's world has crumbled and cries through his earpiece from brothers who seem to know something's wrong are just white noise.

This is it. It's over, it's finished, _he's _finished. Useless, can't save his father, can't save himself.

When the hand clasps his wrist he thinks it's Alan. The idea is ludicrous – the hand is larger than Alan's, the grip all wrong and uniform patterning nothing like his baby brother's gloves. But it must be Alan, no-one else could reach him in time, even though Alan should never have turned back.

It's not Alan.

"I've got you, son."

It's Dad. Dad who's alive and not a skeleton in a blue flight suit and charcoal baldric. Dad who's _here_ and looking down at him with those steely eyes he thought he'd remembered but seeing them now just drives home how much his memories had been starting to fade.

It's Dad, and Scott is thirteen again, rock climbing halfway up a mountain and losing his grip only for Dad to catch him before he hits the ground.

When he needs him the most, Dad's there.

**I am way too emotional over the end of that episode, and whether it was the intention of the writers or not I immediately interpreted this scene as a metaphor for Scott finally breaking from all the stress he's been under ever since Jeff disappeared, only for Jeff to save him right when he's needed the most, and people can pry that from my cold dead hands.**

**Thanks for reading!  
Tsari**


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